


Rising Tide

by ExpressAndAdmirable



Series: The Heroes of Light [15]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Final Fantasy I
Genre: Gen, Self-Reflection, Tiefling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 04:17:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13159119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpressAndAdmirable/pseuds/ExpressAndAdmirable
Summary: The beginning of the journey, and Lux sorting out her thoughts on it.





	Rising Tide

So. Esperance was gone. That was… unexpected. But at least it negated the need for lengthy explanations.

Lux returned the pots to their hooks on the rafters above her and glanced at the staircase leading back down to the shop. The low tones of soft conversation and the rustle of moving fabric floated upwards toward her as her five guests readied themselves for sleep. They were barely better than strangers and already she had faced death with half of them. Feldon Brash, who towered over even her and practically gleamed with the light of his dragon god. Wilhelm Husk, a well-meaning liar whose whole demeanour screamed discomfort and ego. Sol Feldryn, a grim and guarded woman who nevertheless made Lux feel just a little bit odd whenever she fixed her with her blue-eyed stare. Then there were the newcomers: an energetic Gnomish locksmith and a seemingly pleasant Dwarf clad in bearskin and flowers. …And his pig.

Destiny was a funny thing.

Unsure what to do with herself until sleep took her – she was far from familiar with how to handle having company – Lux puttered about the kitchen. She tidied the heavy wooden table and made sure the lids of all the jars in the pantry were shut tight. She dried the dishes they had used for dinner and stacked them on the shelves lining the back wall. She took stock of any perishable items she could find, selecting those she could take on their upcoming journey and bringing them to the table to pack. Finally, she pulled out a chair and sat.

For a time, she simply gazed at nothing in particular, trying to parse the events of the past few days. She had been selected by fate or prophecy or whatever, arrested for it, and sent with the other so-called “Heroes of Light” on a mission to rescue the Princess of Corneria from a terrorist who ultimately turned out to be her secret lover. She had absorbed a crystal into her palm and used it to open a door in a dark temple, which was probably the least bizarre moment in the extended chain of events, as the Princess’s lover then allowed some sort of ancient evil into himself and attacked them with its power. Once he was slain, the Princess had announced she could not return with them to the city, but sent them with her signet ring to prove the truth of the story to the King. And she had traded her antique lute for Lux’s violin. As if anyone would believe _that_ part of the tale.

Lux sighed. She considered picking up the lute, as her skills at that particular instrument were more than slightly rusty and her mother was unexpectedly absent, but there were too many sleepers on the floor below her. Too many people in her house and not one to whom she was related. The thought knotted her stomach. None of them showed any outward signs of distaste for her, but that meant nothing. She was a fellow Hero, they were required to at least work with her. They would reveal themselves in time.

But Sol had reached into the water in the temple when the magic overcame Lux’s will, had pulled her back into the air before she could drown. She had allowed Lux to lean against her as she coughed and spluttered, waiting patiently while she regained her composure. She had stepped in front of Lux when Sir Garamond had unleashed his dark energy and had allowed the Tiefling to heal her without recoiling at her touch. In fact, she had not recoiled once. None of them had.

Still fully awake and now more confused than ever, Lux’s fingernails drummed anxiously on the table. She needed something other than music to busy her hands, she needed a smoke, and she needed to steady her mind. Reaching into the half-packed rucksack on the chair next to her, she produced a piece of square white parchment and began to fold. It was an action so well memorised by the muscles of her fingers that she barely needed to watch their movements, but tonight she gave the paper’s creases her full attention. For awhile it looked like no more than a mess of folds, but with one final twist, a delicate white rat sat on its haunches before her. It would do nicely.

Lux stood, careful not to scrape the chair against the floor, and palmed the paper rat. With her other hand she picked up the near-empty bottle of milk she had purchased on their way to the shop. Most of it had gone into the food she had prepared for the party, but there was just enough left over for the street cats. They did not need her offerings, but they had certainly come to expect them, and she could not disappoint on her last night in the city.

Treading lightly out of well-practiced habit to miss the few creaky boards, Lux descended the stairs to the shop and paused for a moment to observe the scene. Feldon, Wilhelm and Morgan had divided amongst themselves the extra blankets she had found upstairs, Morgan disappearing completely under a pile of fabric. Bornelius slept on the bare wood with no bedroll at all, the pig dozing softly at his side. Sol sat with her back against the counter, facing the locked front door, her legs folded beneath her and her eyes closed. The greatsword that once belonged to Sir Garamond lay in its scabbard across her lap. The Drow might not get along with the other Elves, Lux mused, but they still slept like them. If she was even truly asleep. Who knew.

The night air was still warm as Lux stepped through the back door of the workroom into the tiny courtyard. She filled the small, cracked dishes tucked near the steps, though no cats appeared to be present. They would show themselves in time. She set the empty bottle on the steps and drew her cedar cigarette box from the pouch at her belt. The spiced smoke that filled her lungs was a sigh of relief, calming her frayed nerves. Not the best habit, to be sure, but certainly a comforting one.

Her craving sated, Lux turned her attention to the makeshift shrine in the courtyard’s far corner. It likely resembled little more than a collection of artful trash to the untrained eye, but to those who followed the Mother of the Unwanted, it was perfect. Paper rat in hand, she knelt before the stack of little wooden crates set on their sides against the wall. Looking at the various objects she had placed in the upper crate in the past, it almost acted as a time capsule: a half-burnt candle from a Festival past, several seashells, a metal button, scraps of soft grey leather, a broken pair of pliers, some old needles, and one skeleton key. Carefully, reverently, she lifted the key from the shrine and cradled it in her palm. As was custom when removing offerings, she set the paper rat in its place.

She smoked, and she prayed.

**Author's Note:**

> Title song by Beats Antique.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at @expressandadmirable for a proper table of contents for the Heroes campaign, commissioned character art, text-based roleplay snippets and more!


End file.
